


How Graybeard Halt came to be

by Hessy



Series: The Ranger Mishaps [11]
Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Gen, Gilan definitely has a death wish with calling Halt little, Gilan is the best Big Bro™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hessy/pseuds/Hessy
Summary: Gilan is returning from castle Araluen and stops to pay a visit to his old mentor and his apprentice, who is dying to show him his new mandola and what he has learned. Shenanigans ensured
Relationships: Gilan & Halt O'Carrick, Gilan & Will Treaty
Series: The Ranger Mishaps [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696990
Kudos: 26





	How Graybeard Halt came to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zunnietheweirdo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zunnietheweirdo/gifts).



> I took the text for Graybeard Halt and Old Joe Smoke from book 5, so all credits to Flanagan there

When Will heard that Gilan would come by when returning from Castle Araluen, he was excited. He hadn’t seen Gilan from the Gathering in his third year a few months ago, and he was longing to see him and learn some new tricks from him (how to annoy Halt, for example). The tall Ranger would always stop by when he went to or from Castle Araluen and would usually spend a day or two with him and Halt, sharing the latest news and stories from his fief. 

Will also had his brand new mandola he got from Halt that he wanted to show him. Or, at least, show him what all he could already play. Playing had become one of his hobbies and he liked making people happy with his music. He couldn’t take the instrument to the Gathering, but he did want to show Gilan what he learned and maybe sing together for a bit. Maybe Gilan wouldn’t call his mandola a lute. 

Yes, Will was excited since hearing the news. He drew a calendar for days that were left until Gilan would come to visit. And Halt was stuck listening to Will talking about how much he’s looking forward to it. 

Finally, the day came. Will could barely stop bouncing around as he went around his morning chores. Halt just rolled his eyes and let his apprentice be happy. It wasn’t often Will expressed his happiness in such a way, not since returning from Skandia, at least. 

It was when they were having coffee with a generous portion of honey that Abelard and Tug whinnied in unison, warning the occupants of the cabin of a visitor, as well as greeting another horse. 

“Watch him stumble over the porch,” Halt remarked from his cup of coffee, a rare smile playing on his lips. Will chuckled and set his cup of coffee down on the table. 

True enough, a few minutes later, they could hear someone stumbling over the porch. Will hurried to hide his smile as Gilan knocked on the door. 

Halt stood up, going to open it. 

“Hello, Gilan,” he said and let his former apprentice in. “We were just having coffee, there should still be some left in the kettle.” The Rangers turned towards the small kitchen but Will was already there, filling up a mug. 

“Hey, Gil,” he smiled. “Had a nice journey?” 

The brown-haired Ranger smiled. 

“It was nice, just Blaze and I,” he replied, coming over to take his mug of coffee. “Thanks, Will. Also, your friends are sending their greetings and said that they can’t wait to meet you.”

By friends, he of course meant Horace and Cassandra. They were permanently staying at Castle Araluen and Will missed both of them terribly. At least he could see them whenever he went with Halt to see Crowley, the Commandant. 

Will nodded, it warmed his heart, knowing that his friends were indeed thinking of him. 

The three Rangers sat down with their coffee, Gilan’s still steaming hot, Will and Halt’s half-drunk. 

“So, tell me, Gilan, how did things go?” Halt inquired, trying to get as much information out of his former apprentice as possible. 

“Everything’s calm in Meric,” Gilan responded and took a sip. “I didn’t have many problems the past few months, except for some pompous dukes.” 

He grinned, showing his white teeth. 

“But, after I heard a genial solution for that from one unnamed Ranger, I decided to implement that method of dealing with them. Let me tell you, they didn’t like the moat.”

Will chuckled. Despite only hearing stories of Halt throwing people into moats, he still found the story quite funny, and hearing that Gilan actually took an example of it made him smile even more. 

“And except for a few poachers I had no problems with, everything’s been calm,” Gilan recounted, watching Halt intently. 

The older Ranger nodded. 

“Excellent news,” he said, something that he didn’t say often. “It means that there is finally some peace in the kingdom. We all deserve it, after fifteen years of fearing when Morgarath or his men would strike.” 

Gilan nodded. 

“I remember the first time I went with you to get rid of some Wargals,” he remarked, looking at Will. 

“At that time, I wasn’t that good of an archer yet. You’ve done brilliantly with the Wargals you’ve met-”

“Him, however,” Halt interjected suddenly, “kept missing until he finally got out his sword and decided to do it all mighty.” His tone wasn’t malicious, on the contrary, it was laced with a hint of amusement. 

Gilan decided to do a very mature and foolish thing and stuck his tongue out at Halt briefly. 

Will shuffled on the chair. This adult conversation was going on for too long for his liking. He would like to go out and show Gilan what he knew. 

His behaviour didn’t go unnoticed as Gilan smiled at him and Halt rolled his eyes. 

“Go, otherwise my apprentice here would explode on his chair,” he said, finishing his coffee and setting the mug on the table with a _thud_. 

Gilan smiled. 

“I noticed that,” he remarked, taking the last gulp of his coffee. “Come on Will, show me the way.” 

The boy didn’t have to be told twice as he hurried to go into his room and take out his mandola. Victoriously, he came back into the kitchen, showing it to Gilan. 

Halt rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of “a lute”. 

The tall Ranger looked at the instrument. 

“You got some fancy lute here, Will,” he remarked, knowing full-well that it wasn’t a lute. Will himself had said so in one of his letters. However, Gilan really liked to pull his leg. 

“Gil, it’s not a lute, it’s a mandola. A lute has ten strings, but a mandola is a sort of a large mandolin with eight strings, tuned in pairs,” Will explained, holding the instrument close so he could see it. 

Gilan did try to listen to the explanation, he really did. However, his non-musical brain tuned out Will’s words after he reached the point about how many strings a lute had. Though he did keep an interested expression, showing that he was just as good of an actor as he was a Ranger. 

“That’s great,” he smiled warmly, even if he didn’t understand any of it. “Can you play something?” 

“Hmhm!” Will nodded, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. “I don’t know many songs yet, but I know _Old Joe Smoke_. Do you wanna hear?” 

There was a quiet cough and Halt stood up from his place. 

“I will do the chores, you can go practice outside,” he told them. He had heard loads of Will’s songs and while the boy did play nicely and his songs were fast and lively, Halt thought he deserved some peace and quiet for once. Let the boy play for someone else. 

Will ran outside, happy that he would get to spend more time with his friend while Gilan smirked. 

“That’s very generous of you, Halt, what happened?” he asked jokingly. 

The grizzly Ranger ran a hand through his unkempt hair. 

“Will deserves someone else to listen to him play,” Halt replied, gathering the mugs from the table. 

Gilan smiled. 

“You should leave him with Crowley then, he would teach him a few tunes,” he teased, remembering well how Halt hated Crowley’s unique form of art. 

“One more word about that cat screeching of his and I’ll make you spend that night in a tree,” Halt retorted and Gilan went out after Will, a big smile on his lips. 

The two men (because Will could be barely called a boy, at 18 he was already a young adult) sat down on a dry log next to the forest. 

"So, show me what you've been practicing," Gilan prompted his young companion and Will didn't hesitate. He started playing a sequence of sixteen notes, the tunes to the famous song about an unkempt, unwashed man who slept with goats, titled _Old Joe Smoke_. 

Will started singing after hitting the first sixteen notes, his voice resonating through the meadow and forest's silence. 

_"Old Joe Smoke is a friend of mine._

_He lives on Bleaker's Hill._

_Old Joe Smoke never took a bath_

_and they say he never will._

_Fare thee well, Old Joe Smoke,_

_fare thee well I say._

_fare thee well, Old Joe Smoke,_

_I'll see you on my way."_

Will strung the next sixteen chords and continued with the second verse, and Gilan had to say that he was impressed. Will was actually a great musician, or well, he would be a great musician. 

When Will ended the song, stringing the last notes, Gilan leaned forward and grinned. 

“I think you play very well, Will!” he exclaimed happily and then smirked, a dangerous spark in his eyes. 

“But you know what would be even better than _Old Joe Smoke_?” he asked and continued when Will shook his head. “A parody. Think, Will, it’s a song about an unkempt man and who else has unkempt hair and beard?” 

Will looked at him, understanding in his eyes. 

“Halt,” he answered the question. 

Gilan smiled. 

“Bingo.” 

Will carefully set his mandola on the log and got a piece of parchment and scribbled down the text of the song. Gilan leaned over to look at it and smiled. 

“What shall we do with it?” he prompted. Will looked at the title, thinking about Halt’s unkempt hair, his tongue sticking out in concentration. 

“Hm, Halt started graying a few years back,” he mused, thinking about his mentor’s increasingly grayer hair and beard. “Graybeard Halt?” 

Gilan slapped his thighs as he was laughing so hard. 

“That’s genial! Need a helping hand with the text?” 

The two Rangers spent hours sitting on the log, laughing and snickering as they wrote the text for the parody together. When they were finished, Gilan held the text up before Will’s eyes. 

“Sing it, Will, sing it!” he encouraged his younger companion. Will, his lips still upwards from smiling, took his mandola and repeated the sixteen chord tune. 

_“Graybeard Halt is a fighting man._

_I’ve heard common talk_

_that Graybeard Halt he cuts his hair_

_with a carving knife and a fork._

_Fare thee well, Graybeard Halt,_

_fare thee well I say._

_Fare thee well, Graybeard Halt,_

_tomorrow’s another day.”_

Will stopped singing and looked at Gilan, a smile playing in his eyes. 

“That was fantastic, Will!” the tall Ranger said and was about to add something when a familiar, dreadful voice interrupted him. 

“Oh, it will be fantastic when you two spend the night in the tree,” Halt smirked from behind them. Will looked at Gilan, paling slightly. The Meric Ranger looked back, his expression mirroring Will’s own. 

“Well, I think I’ll, euhm, continue with my journey to Meric?” Gilan said, unsuccessfully. Halt crossed his arms on his chest, looking down at him. 

“I did say that I would do the chores, on the other hand, I think having two little helpers would be better,” he remarked. 

“Who do you call little, Halt?” Gilan retorted, knowing immediately what a mistake he had just made. 

The graying Ranger looked at him, not amused at all. 

“Be glad you’re not my apprentice anymore, Gilan,” he warned in a low tone. “Now pack it up here, it’s time to work.” 

He got a disappointed “aaaw” from both his former and current apprentice, yet they both knew better than to argue with him. Will got his mandola and followed after his mentor to the house to do chores. 

Sure enough, Halt’s laughter sounded through the night as Will and Gilan found a comfortable position in the trees around the cabin. 

“Well, at least you still got that text,” Gilan remarked, noting that Halt didn’t make any move to get the parody’s text from Will. 

“Shut up!” was the answer he got, coming from another tree on the opposite side of the clearing. 

Gilan smiled. No doubt Will would forget this night and start practicing in a few days. He personally couldn’t wait for how well he’d get. 

“Good night, Will,” he wished his young friend. 

“Sleep well, you overgrown spaghetti,” Will called back, nestling himself into a space between the branches, falling asleep within minutes. 

Gilan stayed awake for several more minutes, looking up at the night sky, at the tree where Will slept, and at the yellow light coming from the cabin’s windows. Yes. This was home. With the content thought, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be taken into the dream realm. 


End file.
